


Day 1

by Nerd_of_Camelot



Series: SladeRobin Week 2020 [1]
Category: DCU
Genre: Aftercare, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe(s), Anal Sex, Bottom Dick Grayson, Daddy Kink, Developing Relationship, Dick Grayson Has Issues, Dick Grayson Has a Nice Butt, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dom/sub, Enemies to Lovers, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Good Slade Wilson, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Soulmates, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Protective Slade Wilson, Romantic Soulmates, Safe Sane and Consensual, Secret Relationship, Sexual Tension, Size Difference, Size Kink, Slade Wilson is Deathstroke, SladeRobin Week 2020, Thighs, Top Slade Wilson, Voice Kink, is "affection kink" a thing?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:33:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26924404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerd_of_Camelot/pseuds/Nerd_of_Camelot
Summary: Day 1 - Daddy Kink | Reluctant Soulmates | Dom/Sub WorldChapter 1 - Daddy Kink (Explicit)Chapter 2 - Reluctant Soulmates (General)Chapter 3 - Dom/Sub World (Mature)Fully aware I didn't have to use all three prompts, but I had ideas for all three and I had them separately.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Raven, Dick Grayson & Slade Wilson, Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson
Series: SladeRobin Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964563
Comments: 7
Kudos: 153
Collections: SladeRobin Week 2020





	1. Daddy Kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slade makes Dick feel wanted, and Dick likes feeling wanted.
> 
> More importantly, Dick tends to get horny after he's been angry about something, and Slade knows exactly how to take him apart in order to sate the lust and any remaining anger.
> 
> -  
> Dick has Bruce issues, and Slade likes being called Daddy, so it works out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time participating in this sort of event! Hopefully I'll finish it.
> 
> I had good ideas for all three prompts for Day 1 of this week, so... Well.  
> I've been hacking away at them since I saw the prompts like two weeks ago, tbh, but rest assured these are written solely for the event lol
> 
> Also, just for reference, where all of my fics containing Sladick are concerned, Slade is about 6'5'' (1.96 m) and Dick is about 5'10'' (1.78 m), so there's not a huge height difference but Slade is a fair bit bulkier than Dick is so there's definitely still a size difference lol

On the best of days, Bruce was somewhat draining to be around.

On the worst, his very presence, the mere _ mention _ of him even, gave Dick the distinct urge to do something  _ horrible _ to a small, cute animal. What that horrible thing was and what small, cute animal was the target of the urge varied, but the sentiment did not.

And though he never indulged the urge, knowing full well it was not only unacceptable but also something he  _ really _ didn’t want to actually do and merely a result of him attempting to put words to his frustrations, it didn’t make it any less exhausting to deal with.

It didn’t make  _ Bruce  _ any less exhausting to deal with.

And, not exactly on the opposite end of the spectrum, on the best days, Slade was Dick’s favorite person and a delight to have around.

On the worst, the sentiment wasn’t dissimilar from the one he had for Bruce on the worst days where he was concerned.

Today happened to fall somewhere within the “Bruce made him want to strangle puppies” and “Slade made him feel safe and wanted” range.

… Which was how he’d found himself curled in Slade’s arms in one of his safehouses after walking out on Bruce during a conversation Dick  _ did not at all _ want to be having.

Slade was gently carding his fingers through his hair, idly talking about some contract or another as he did so. Dick didn’t care what he was saying―his voice alone was soothing, and they’d agreed on this sort of thing being exactly what Slade should do in situations like this a long time ago anyway. If Dick came to him and didn’t want to move, talk, or even make eye contact, Slade would just hold him and chatter at him until he felt up to any of the prior activities.

It was nice, and the fact that Slade never faltered or acted inconvenienced by providing this small comfort to Dick was one of the reasons he was much lower on Dick’s shitlist than Bruce was on a day-to-day basis.

For now, Dick merely stayed curled against him, eyes closed, drinking in the warmth and safety of being held. Of being protected. Of knowing that nothing and no one would be able to touch him unless he wanted that to happen until he finally moved out of the embrace. Of having Slade’s fingers carding through his hair, petting his head and keeping him grounded.

He hummed, the first noise he’d made since he’d gotten here, and pressed his face into Slade’s neck.

Slade chuckled, noise rumbling in his throat and reverberating through his chest and then through Dick. He smiled and shifted a little.

Slade moved to press a kiss to his temple, and he could feel that the older man’s lips were pulled into a smile as well.

And all Dick felt was safe and wanted.

Wholly and completely safe and wanted.

Which was a welcome change from the way he’d felt when he first walked in the door, however long ago that was.

A welcome change from being angry and hurt and unwanted and feeling a whole lot like a total fucking  _ failure. _

Bruce just really  _ did not _ know how to time his lectures.

Dick had been having a shitty day anyway, so suddenly being lectured on how lax he had been in his patrols lately and how sloppy his form was the last time Bruce saw him fight was  _ completely _ unwanted and… Ugh. Reminiscent of a lot of still painful, stinging things from years and years ago that he should be over but definitely was not.

Dick had walked out of that conversation before he could start arguing back, because arguing back would have ended a lot worse than just walking out did. Bruce would get over him leaving sooner or later, or Alfred would kick off in his ass.

Dick pushed the thoughts away, shifting and settling in again.

“I don’t suppose you feel up to talking about it just yet?” Asked Slade, in that tone that said he completely understood if the answer was a no, and if that “no” came in the form of silence.

“Bruce issues,” Dick mumbled in reply, shrugging, “As usual.”

Slade hummed, displeased with the answer, and Dick knew it was just because it was about Bruce  _ again. _ It was because Bruce  _ still _ made him feel shitty enough that he would go seeking out Slade just to be held and talked to for a while. Because Bruce  _ still _ had enough power over him that his opinions actually  _ mattered _ to Dick.

He was not displeased with Dick, or the vagueness of his answer.

He was just angry at Bruce.

“... What are you thinking?” Dick asked, after a moment of silence.

“I’d very much like to strangle that man,” Slade replied in a sigh, gently squeezing him, “But I won’t. Because I know you don’t want me to.”

“I appreciate that. And the sentiment.”

A puff of amused air from Slade.

Silence as he continued to pet his hair, and Dick got comfortable yet again. Closed his eyes and breathed deeply, listening to Slade's slow breathing and trying to match it.

"I love you," Slade finally said.

Dick's mood jumped, lips quirking back up. His heart soared. "I love you too," He said, shifting to press a smiling kiss into Slade's neck.

It was little things like that―just little things like being told he was loved―that really made him feel  _ great. _ It made his mood sky-rocket any time he heard it, but especially from Slade or Damian who were typically not very emotionally open with anyone else. It made him feel… Special.

Wanted.

And that was really all he wanted in life.

To be wanted.

And Slade, even on his worst days, always made him feel wanted.

He took a breath, seized with the urge to go further―to do something more with Slade.

It wouldn't be the first time, probably wouldn't be the last either, that he tried to turn this sexual because the only time he felt safer and more  _ wanted _ than he did right now was when Slade was fucking him senseless. But, if he was lucky, it might be one of the rare occasions where Slade didn't say no and tell him he wouldn't contribute to his insecurity by fucking him and making him think that was all Slade wanted him for.

And, yeah, Dick was glad he usually said that.

But he really wanted it right now, and not just so he would feel wanted.

More because he was suddenly, like, horny. Which wasn't surprising, because angry led to horny more often than not if he just left it alone.

"Hey," He began, "... Daddy?"

Slade tensed a bit.

"Yes, little Robin?"

"... Can we?" He asked, pulling back to look him in the eye. "I want you."

Slade narrowed his eye a bit, vaguely frowning. "Dick…"

"It's not―" Dick glanced away, "It's not about that. Not entirely. I just… Want you."

A beat. Then, "You're certain, little Robin?"

"Yeah." He returned his gaze to his face, hopeful, "Please, Slade?"

Slade watched his face a moment, hand trailing slowly up and down his back. He hummed, thoughtful. And Dick sat there, waiting and barely breathing.

"Alright," Slade finally said, seeming satisfied with whatever proof he'd seen that Dick wasn't just trying to get fucked to make himself feel wanted, "Up. I'll meet you in the bedroom in a moment."

Dick got up, and even though he was disappointed at the loss of contact, he wasn't going to complain.

Slade smiled, a little, and Dick realized right about then that it was partially a test. If he'd hesitated or refused to be separated from Slade for any length of time, it was about feeling wanted, and Slade probably would have ended up telling him no. He'd been willing to get up pretty much immediately, though, so Slade knew he had been telling the truth. And that he was eager.

"Bastard," He said, but he really wasn't all that mad about the deception.

Slade lifted a brow, smile becoming a smirk.

"Is that any way to speak to your daddy, little Robin?" He asked, voice dipping into a low rumble that made Dick feel weak at the knees.

"N-no, Daddy," He answered, a little breathless, flushing, "I'm sorry. I'll be good."

"I know you will," Slade said as he stood, firm but all the more reassuring for it, "Bedroom."

Dick went to the bedroom.

Slade followed.

Pulled him back into his arms and kissed him silly, and Dick kissed back happily.

“Love you,” Slade purred against his lips, hands slipping down to grasp his ass and squeeze. “Precious little Robin.”

“Love you too, Daddy.” He mumbled back, pleased as could be just with this alone.

He was easy to please, sue him.

Kiss him, tell him you loved him, and tell him he was somehow special, and he was yours. One hundred percent, instantly.

And, thankfully, Slade had never once tried to take advantage of that despite being  _ very well aware _ of it.

“Get out of those clothes for me, baby.” Slade ordered, withdrawing so he could deal with his own, “And get on the bed.”

Dick obeyed, slipping out of his hoodie and shirt, then his pants and boxers, then hopping onto the bed and laying down. And he got to sit and watch, biting his lip, as Slade slipped out of his own clothes. He was so… God, he was so handsome, and he was  _ all Dick’s. _

He was very happy with this.

Smiling, Slade climbed over him and kissed him again. Kissed him into the bed, nibbling his lower lip until he opened his mouth and let him slide his tongue in. Dick whined softly, sliding his tongue against Slade’s and getting a hum for his troubles as Slade settled in over him. He was trapped, but more importantly he was safe. He didn’t have to be strong with Slade. He could just… Lay here and kiss back and slide his hands up over Slade’s shoulders and loop his arms around the back of his neck.

“Daddy,” He sighed, when Slade pulled back to trail kisses and nips down to his throat.

Slade merely chuckled.

Chuckled and sucked a mark into his neck, worrying it with his teeth until Dick was sighing noises and gasping softly. And Dick just shifted his grip on Slade, sliding his arms under his to reach his back and then trailing his hands up and down the powerful, muscular expanse. He dug his nails in, gently, scraping down his spine, and Slade hummed.

But eventually Slade moved on from covering his neck in marks, sliding down to continue on his chest, his ribs, his stomach, his hips, and Dick’s hands fell away to lay uselessly on the bed next to his head.

“Such a pretty boy,” Slade said, laying one strong forearm over his hips and dipping his head to press a kiss to the inside of his thigh, “Hold still for me?”

“Yes, Daddy.” Dick bit down on his lip again, watching as Slade grinned and promptly set about sucking marks into his thighs as well.

He keened softly, putting an embarrassing amount of effort into holding his legs still (since he couldn’t have moved his hips if he  _ wanted _ to anyway) and curling his hands into loose fists. His thighs were… Sensitive. But, of course, Slade knew that. And he used it to his advantage, scraping his teeth over them and sucking and licking until all Dick could do what whine and try not to curl his legs closed around him.

“Grab the lube for me.”

Dick reached for the bedside table, managing to pull the drawer open mostly through force of will and a vague twist of his upper body that would have been uncomfortable for anyone less flexible than he was. Lube in hand he settled back down and offered the bottle to Slade.

Pulling away from his thigh a moment, Slade took the bottle and slicked up his fingers. He settled back in as he traced his fingers over his hole, licking at a spot he’d already left a mark in and grinning when it made Dick whine. And then he was pressing a finger into him, slow but firm, and Dick closed his eyes and breathed so he could concentrate both on not tensing up and not squirming.

Slade pumped the finger slowly, only adding a second when Dick gave a half-annoyed sigh and shifted his hips, and adding a third after he repeated the motion some time later. The stretch was nice, and Slade’s calculated movements drove Dick  _ nuts _ as usual, so by the time he crooked his fingers  _ just so _ and brushed Dick’s prostate he was already leaking pre onto his belly.

“Slade,” He uttered, shifting, whining when Slade responded by biting into his thigh and crooking his fingers again, rubbing against the little bundle of nerves. “God, Daddy,  _ please.” _

“That’s better.” Slade chuckled, withdrawing his fingers and kissing the spot he’d bitten apologetically. “But you’re going to have to be more specific about what you want, Robin. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

His low, gravelly voice temporarily shut Dick’s brain off and left him incapable of a coherent reply because that  _ tone _ implied  _ very good things _ for him and made him want to just spread his legs. But it was only temporary, and thankfully the delay was short enough that Slade didn’t seem to notice.

“Fuck me?” He asked, blinking down at the larger man, aching to reach out and touch his broad, toned chest, bury his face into his neck and get his fucking  _ world rocked. _ “I― I want you to hold me down and fuck me ‘til I can’t see straight and all I can think about is you.”

Slade’s eye narrowed, lips curling up again. “Is that so?”

“Yeah…” Dick bit his lip yet again, “I… You’re so good to me, Daddy, I don’t want to think about anything else. Feel so safe when I’m with you. When you’re over me.”

“When I’m over you, when I’m  _ inside  _ you?” Slade quirked a brow, smugly.

“Yeah,”

And, of course, not only was it true, but it was exactly what Slade wanted to hear and he knew that as well as Slade knew his thighs were sensitive. Slade was… Protective. Having Dick tell him he made him feel safe? Instant mood boost much the same way being told he was loved or special gave Dick an instant mood boost.

“Good boy.” Slade rumbled, finally removing his arm from his hips and allowing him to move, crawling slow and predatory up to his face again, trapping him under his comparatively huge body, “You’re doing so well, Robin.”

Dick smiled up at him, relaxing into the mattress both at the praise and the pleasant things it did to his brain and at the immediate feeling of being protected when Slade settled over him. “Anything for you, Daddy.”

Slade’s smile turned soft for a second, and they kissed and it was gentle and unhurried, but then Slade was pulling back and smirking down at him again.

He wrapped one large hand, calloused by years of plying his trade, around one of Dick’s hickey-laden thighs and lifted his leg, settling it on one of his broad shoulders. Dick’s breath caught in his throat, as usual, captivated by, well… By Slade, mostly. By Slade and how his hands felt, and how easy it was for him to just pick Dick up and throw him around if he wanted to.

He guessed he just had a thing for being smaller than Slade.

Slade grinned, knowingly, moving his other leg as well as he slicked himself up. And then he was rubbing against him, pressing in, and Dick released that breath that had stuck in his throat in a weak sigh at the feeling. Groaned softly as the older man sank into him inch by inch and finally, blessedly, bottomed out.

Dick sank into the pillow, peeking his eyes open slowly (not remembering closing them this time) and smiling dazedly up at Slade who only smiled in return before shifting, gripping Dick by the hips and more or less folding him in half in order to kiss him again. Again, it would probably be uncomfortable for anyone who was less flexible than Dick, but he regularly folded himself into a pretzel for the hell of it anyway. Getting folded in half while getting fucked sounded heavenly right now.

“Mm…” Dick pulled away from the kiss only enough to mumble, “Move?”

Slade did not respond with words, instead slowly drawing back and sliding back in, and the drag was  _ perfect. _ Too slow? Maybe. But it wouldn’t be slow for long.

True to expectation, as soon as he was doing more soft moaning than gasping, Slade bit his lower lip and set a rather punishing pace. And Dick  _ keened, _ knotting his fingers in the sheets and holding on for dear life.

“Daddy,” He gasped, panting as Slade’s hips rolled and met his ass over and over again.

Honestly, he couldn’t even remember what he’d been angry about―was too caught up in the feeling, too overwhelmed (as always) by the way Slade filled him up and hit all those sensitive spots inside of him and made him see  _ stars. _ And the measured and powerful thrusts could only leave him panting and moaning, embarrassed and oddly pleased with the way Slade was still fully in control while Dick’s brain sort of shut off all higher functions above being taken care of.

“Yes, my pretty little Robin?” Slade kissed over his chin, “Something you want to say?”

“I love you,” Was what came out, but if that was what he’d originally intended to say was up for debate. His brain kind of just short-circuited on being called pretty… As usual.

“I love you too,” Slade purred, “Look at you, precious. Look at how well you take me. You’re such a good boy. You’re doing so well.”

Dick whined, tipping his head back to let Slade kiss his neck.

He was a good boy. He was doing well. He was loved, he was  _ wanted, _ and Slade would keep laving kisses over his neck and fucking into him until he couldn’t take it anymore and it was  _ perfect. _

Slade had no misconceptions about how much he could handle.

He shifted, and Slade did as well, and  _ yeah, _ there it was. Slade kept at it, now hitting his prostate with each powerful thrust and his eyes rolled back in his head from the feeling. God, yeah.

“Daddy,” He whined, feeling that knot in his belly tightening.

He could go a few more rounds and Slade could too, but it was still common courtesy to warn him in case he wanted to drag it out―which he did sometimes. Those times were always something and Dick was always fucking  _ thrilled. _

“Go ahead, little Robin.”

He whined again, tensing, clenching his hands in the sheets. It wasn’t so close it was going to crash into him  _ right now, _ but there wasn’t much time left before it did. And then Slade was shifting again, moving to grasp one of Dick’s asscheeks and digging his nails in. Dick keened, legs clenching a bit on Slade’s shoulders and making him grunt―not displeased, not even surprised.

And then,  _ then, _ not at all by surprise, his orgasm rolled over him and he came between he and Slade’s chests and his own thighs. Slade crooned little praises at him through it, fucking into him harder and tightening his grip, groaning softly right into Dick’s ear as he chased his own release. All Dick could do was gasp happily, overstimulation stinging a little and making his thighs tremble on Slade’s shoulders, toes curling, but he wasn’t complaining.

He wasn’t complaining at all.

And then, suddenly, Slade was pulling out.

Dick whined, somewhat confused, but Slade just shifted up and began to stroke himself before finally spilling over Dick’s stomach and thighs.

They stayed there a moment, Slade hunched over him while he laid on his back completely boneless, and panted, trying to catch their breath.

“Love you,” Slade mumbled, when he finally pushed himself up and laid Dick’s legs down on the bed.

Dick smiled up at him dazedly, “Love you too.”

“Do you need a couple more minutes?” Slade asked, smiling gently in return, “Or can we get you cleaned up now?”

“Mm, you might need to carry me if we do it right now.”

“Alright,” Slade leaned in, kissing him softly, then slipping arms under him to pick him up and tuck him against his chest, “I know you like being carried anyway.”

Dick chuckled, because he was right, and settled against him.

Slade carried him to the bathroom, and they showered. And Dick happily stayed right by his side, and eventually he  _ did _ remember what he’d been angry about and they  _ did _ talk about it, but ultimately all they did for the rest of the day was hang out.

Which was nice.


	2. Reluctant Soulmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has a soulmate.
> 
> In fact, most people have two - a romantic soulmate and a platonic one, and you can usually tell which is which by the time you've met them.
> 
> Well, Dick found out years ago that Raven his his platonic soulmate (and thank God for that, because she's the best and he loves her to bits but he couldn't ever date her), and now? Now he's finding out, and is generally very displeased by the knowledge that, _Slade_ is meant to be his other soulmate.
> 
> What the hell is he going to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is totally SFW - no sex at all, just some mild angst and a happy ending
> 
> it deviated heavily from my original idea but i'm still happy with it

Everyone had a soulmate.

Not everyone had a  _ romantic _ soulmate, but everyone had a soulmate. Most people actually had two―a romantic soulmate  _ and _ a platonic one. Either way you were meant to spend life with them. A platonic soulmate was just the absolute best friend you could ever ask for, and for people who didn’t have a romantic soulmate they were a goddamned  _ blessing. _

Some people had one or the other, others had both, and it was a fairly frequent occurrence for both soulmates to be the same person―someone whose relationship with you would be everything the two of you wanted from a life partner and from a friend. It was a lot like the days when soulmates were only prevalent in works of fiction and far less so in the real world, where the person you decided to spend your life with was always best picked if they were someone you loved beyond any definition.

… The point was, everybody had one, and Dick had always known that he was one of the many people who had two.

What he wasn’t sure of for a long time was if he was one of the rarer types who had two platonic soulmates or two romantic ones.

Before his parents died, he thought about it a lot. Wondered who, and when, and if he’d actually even meet them since he did so much travelling. He used to fantasize about meeting his romantic soulmate (if, in fact, he had one) in some sort of cliche romance movie way―in a cafe, or at the circus after a show, or any of the other millions of ways that he saw in his mom’s cheesy romance movies. And he used to fantasize about meeting his platonic soulmate (again, if he had one) at school, or at the circus, and how they would hit it off immediately and he’d have his best friend forever.

… After his parents died, the fantasies did as well.

When he became a vigilante at the tender age of ten, all thought of meeting a best friend forever or the perfect person to marry washed out of him. It wasn’t important, wasn’t realistic, and if he wasted all his time with it he would never get anywhere.

So he tucked it all away and took to covering his two soulmarks with makeup and dark clothing.

And he screwed around, as a teenager. Screwed around and humored a few ‘romantic’ relationships that were really more ‘friends having sex with each other’. Screwed around, but never actually sought out either of his soulmates. It wasn’t worth the trouble, or the disappointment of being on the lookout for them all the time and never finding them.

He found the first one on accident, when he was 15.

He was grumpily sitting in the main living room of Titans Tower, temporarily off-duty due to an injury that he wasn’t stupid enough to keep trying to patrol while he had, when Raven had swept by in… Casual clothes?

And on her arm, just above the crook of her elbow, was  _ his soulmark. _

It was just a bird’s head, but it was recognizable immediately, because it was flat black with a red outline and one blue eye. It was  _ exactly the same _ as the mark he had in the  _ exact same spot _ on his arm―albeit on the opposite side.

Now, the thing was, he liked Raven.

He  _ did. _

She was a good friend and they got along swimmingly, but he’d never thought she was… You know. One of his soulmates.

But there was the soulmark that said she was.

He had scrambled up off the couch, grabbing her hand to stop her, and she must have felt the confusion and excitement and utter  _ disbelief _ even before that because all she did was raise an eyebrow at him. Now that she wasn’t walking, though, he could release her hand.

And he did.

And tugged his hoodie over his head and showed her the mark just above the crook of his elbow on his right arm.

And her eyes went wide, flicking to the identical mark on her left arm in the same spot, and the surprise caught her so off-guard her powers lashed a shadow out and knocked the whole kitchen table over.

“Oh,” She said, as if everything suddenly made sense.

“Yeah,” Dick agreed, and hesitantly he smiled at her.

She smiled back after a moment, small and unsure.

“... Not to sound unenthused or… Rude?” She said, carefully, after another moment, “But I  _ very much _ hope that you’re not a romantic soulmate.”

“I don’t think I am,” He laughed, still a little caught off-guard by the whole situation, “No offense but I’m… Really not interested in you like that.”

“I have never been so relieved to hear those words.”

And Dick couldn’t hold himself back―he lunged forward and wrapped her up in a hug. She froze for the first three or so seconds before she  _ laughed _ and hugged back just as tight.

“I might usually give you a talking to about personal space,” She admitted, softly, “But I think we both needed this.”

He hummed his agreement, and honestly? He hadn’t felt so at peace in a hug since the last one he got from his mom.

* * *

The second one was just as much of an accident as the first one, but somehow even worse for it.

Dick was 23 and teamed up with Slade for a temporary job because Bruce had somehow figured out that Dick and Slade had worked together in the past and by all accounts had worked  _ well _ together, and Slade was dressed in, would you believe it, casual clothing. And he’d moved some way or another and  _ bam. _ The inside of his right forearm. A bird-like black shape with what Dick had always thought looked like a sword buried in its chest and protruding from its back. Red outline. Blue eye.

And it knocked the wind out of him.

The universe was fucking  _ kidding him, _ right?

A platonic soulmate in a girl he did, by all means, love a whole awful lot, and a romantic one in goddamned  _ Slade Wilson? _

Now, granted, Slade could  _ also _ be a platonic soulmate… But the likelihood was low and Dick had learned not to pray for miracles a long time ago. They weren’t worth the shit you had to go through to get them, and no amount of praying right now would change what was already reality.

Wanting no chance at all of Slade finding out because he was  _ not _ willing to accept this bond like he had with Raven, he shot his left forearm a look and made sure his sleeves stayed rolled down below it. He’d have to cover it with makeup later.

He watched Slade pause, rub at the soulmark like it ached, and continue about his business, and suddenly found himself wondering if all the rumors about being able to feel it when your soulmate denied your bond weren’t just hyperbole. He didn’t think he wanted to find out, and foolishly…

As much as he wasn’t willing to  _ accept _ the bond, he also couldn’t bring himself to fully break it before it turned into anything.

No matter how many times he claimed that all his hopes and dreams about his soulmates had died when his parents did, he couldn’t deny that the knowledge he had two people out there who loved him more than he could understand had kept him alive in some pretty terrible moments. Had kept him from, you know,  _ straight up killing himself. _ He couldn’t just… Break a bond like that. Even if it was Slade.

Even if it was Slade.

So he just resolved to keep it a secret and never speak a word of it to Slade.

He couldn’t break the bond, but he could pretend it wasn’t Slade, and he could come to terms with never actually  _ having _ both of the soulmates he’d always looked forward to having.

* * *

“Were it not for our current situation,” Slade huffed as he dragged a 25 year old Dick along with him, away from the fighting going on behind them, “I would be a lot more irritated with you for hiding this from me all these years.”

“Honestly do not care,” Dick bit back, eyes scanning their surroundings for threats, “It’s not like I even fucking knew.”

“You  _ obviously _ did.”

“And you’re like, fifteen years older than me! Or more!” He felt like a child, raising his voice in indignation, “I am  _ not _ going there, soulbond be damned.”

“And if it were platonic?” Slade asked, sounding somewhere between annoyed and understanding.

“We both know it isn’t.”

Slade hummed his response to that, dragging him down a sidestreet now.

Dick went along with him.

The fight was  _ not _ going in his favor, and he’d nearly lost his arm from the elbow down.  _ Had  _ lost his sleeve from the bicep down. Which was why this conversation was happening.

“You wouldn’t even consider it?” Slade asked, finally, after they’d gotten to one of Slade’s safehouses, and Dick still felt his eye flick toward the mark.

“You  _ would?” _

“Well, seeing as you’re a full-grown adult who I happen to be rather fond of  _ anyway…” _

“So you wouldn’t have if you found out before I turned 18?” He tried not to sound incredulous, but knew that he failed.

“I would have waited, at the very least.” Slade huffed, grabbing a first aid kit as he did, “But seeing as I only found out  _ after _ you turned  _ twenty-five…” _

“Well fucking  _ forgive me _ if I’m a little too weirded out by you probably already being a full-grown adult by the time I was born.” He wanted to cross his arms, but didn’t, seeing as Slade was currently cleaning out a gash on his arm, “But you’re telling me you wouldn’t have even considered it until I was an adult?”

“Of course not. I’m a  _ monster _ but I’m not a  _ pedophile.” _ He could  _ feel _ Slade rolling his eye, “I had a hard time even viewing you as someone who was romantically active until last year, when I was unkindly reminded by my lieutenant that you were  _ twenty-four _ and had already been  _ engaged.” _

“I’ve been romantically active since before I even  _ met _ you,” Dick snorted, “I was a teenager, not a nun.”

It got a snort from Slade.

And Dick hated that he really liked making Slade laugh. And that he thought Slade was attractive.

Really, the thing was? It wasn’t Slade’s age that bothered him, because by God if that was all it was then he’d have opened up that can of worms two years ago, when he found out they were soulmates.

It was kind of, you know, the  _ rest _ of it.

Like who Slade was, and what he did for a living, and the knowledge that Bruce would probably fucking  _ disown him _ if he got caught with Slade in anything that could come across as too friendly or too romantic.

Seized with an annoyance he usually tried to ignore, he said, “If Bruce ever found out, he’d disown me.”

Slade gave a vague nod in response. “And he would find out, sooner or later.”

“He always does, the bastard.”

“And is that and my age really your only concern?”

“... I’ll admit, the Bruce thing is far more pressing.”

“You’re smart, my little Robin,” Slade said, “Surely if you wanted… Well. Even he can’t see through all of your tricks, surely?”

“... I guess,” Dick agreed, slowly, “Are you saying you want me to try and lie to him, or…?”

“I  _ would _ like to be given a chance,” Slade shrugged, “After all, I’ll admit having lost one soulmate already makes it rather painful to think I’ll never get a chance with the other.”

“I’ll think about it,” Was what Dick eventually said, and Slade simply nodded in response.

* * *

“Take the fucking helmet off,” Dick found himself saying as he yanked his domino off his face and tossed it onto one of the nearby tables to be picked up later.

Even with the helmet still on, Dick could feel the surprise radiating off of Slade as he worked to do so―that he actually listened at all said a lot. And then Slade was setting it aside, raising a brow as Dick continued his approach, and…

Well.

Dick was looping a hand behind his neck to yank him down to his level and kiss him.

“Decide to lie to Bruce?” Slade asked, when he pulled back.

“Decided that if he finds out, he finds out, and I no longer give enough of a fuck to let him keep me from living my life.” Dick grumbled in reply, looking away. “Bastard.”

Slade chuckled, and slid a hand up under his chin, lifting his head and pulling him into another kiss.

* * *

Slade being his soulmate did not, contrary to popular belief, mean that Slade loved him.

Now, he didn’t want to be pessimistic and assume that Slade  _ didn’t _ love him, but he had a very hard time thinking that he did. Slade had already been married (twice) and had inevitably lost both of them―who was to say that he wasn’t  _ literally _ just with Dick because their soulmarks said they were supposed to be? Or that it wasn’t as simple as what he’d said back then about just wanting a chance?

Dick was 27 now, and had spent the last year and a half secretly dating(?) Slade, but he was pretty sure he was in over his head, because he was  _ pretty sure _ that he’d gone past the “this is my soulmate and I’m giving a relationship with him a chance” point months ago. He was pretty sure he was actually in love. Which was not ideal.

Or maybe it was.

But mostly he thought that it wasn’t, because admittedly? Genuine feelings really weren’t his thing. He kind of sucked at expressing his wants and needs without feeling overly needy or spoiled. He especially sucked at allowing himself to be vulnerable―it was a miracle he’d managed to ask Kori to marry him all those years ago, and he wasn’t likely to get a repeat of that kind of miracle now.

So it stood to reason that, of course, the conversation only happened because he got  _ angry. _

You know, the one emotion he didn’t have trouble expressing.

“― here to waste all my fucking time with someone who probably doesn’t even  _ love me back!” _

And the words left his mouth, and he couldn’t remember what came before them. Or what he’d been angry about. Because suddenly everything was silent and he was starting to realize what he’d just said. What he’d just admitted.

He felt tears in his eyes, realized his vision was going blurry, and wanted to curl in on himself and stop existing.

And Slade, well.

He just looked surprised, really.

“Robin,” He began, taking a step closer, and Dick took a step back and looked away in hopes of Slade somehow not seeing the tears that had now officially started flowing.

That was the sucky thing―he was shit at emotions, couldn’t ever do anything that required more emotional investment than being friendly or being pissed off, but once something set him off and he started crying? It was over for him. He was going to be crying for the next several hours, he was sure.

“Dick,” Slade tried this time, stepping into his personal space as many times as it took for Dick to run out of room to back away from him, “Look at me, baby.”

_ Baby, _ his brain chimed at him, sounding heartbroken in a… Not entirely bad way,  _ he called us baby. _

He took a stubborn sniff through his nose, swiping at his wet eyes with the back of his hand and pointedly  _ not _ looking at Slade. He didn’t want to make eye contact while he was crying. He hated people seeing him crying.

“Dick,” Slade said again.

His hand cupped his chin, and Dick barely bit back an outright sob.

He looked up at Slade through watery eyes with a lump in his throat that wouldn’t go away. God, he felt  _ pathetic. _ Why was he even crying about this?

“Dick, do…” Slade paused, sighing, “Do you really think I don’t love you?”

And Dick didn’t manage to stop himself before he said, choked by tears, “Why the hell would you?” A bitter laugh that  _ definitely _ bordered on becoming a sob, “Why would anybody, for that matter?”

Ah, of course.

The abandonment issues that Raven kept telling him he had, along with the self-esteem issues and the inability to believe that he deserved literally anything good… All of it was just throwing itself out there, huh? Right in front of Slade?

He guessed the dam had to break eventually, but in front of  _ Slade? _

Ew.

Slade’s brows furrowed, somewhat, but if he was questioning that reaction he didn’t do it out loud. He just watched him a moment, which made him even more uncomfortable with the whole ordeal, and then leaned in to kiss his forehead.

“I wouldn’t have spent this much time trying to woo you if I didn’t intend to make an attempt to spend the rest of my life with you,” Slade said, “And I wouldn’t be making that kind of attempt if I didn’t love you.”

And Dick― Dick tried to remember what he’d been angry about, because being angry was so much easier than sitting here crying like a child. But as far as he knew he’d been pitching a fit over Slade always being busy, which was hard to get mad about again since he was kind of also crying about it right now since it was very much a problem that went hand in hand with the love thing.

He was spending so much of his time thinking about Slade and wanting to be with Slade, only to be gently brushed off when he went out of his way to try and spend time with him, and it was just… He wasn’t going to take that kind of behavior from someone who didn’t even  _ love him. _

But apparently he was wrong.

If he could even believe Slade, and he he desperately wanted to.

He tried to come up with something,  _ anything, _ to say. Just break the silence, push past the way he wanted to burst into tears.

Nothing came to mind.

And Slade swept a finger over his cheek, gently swiping the tears away, and…

Dick’s bottom lip trembled, vision blurring until he couldn’t see more than vague colored shapes, and he squeezed both his eyes and his jaw to try and keep from bursting into a full-on crying fit. Lord knew he probably  _ needed _ one, but he― not here. Not in front of someone. Not in front of anyone, not even Raven.

His breath hitched once, twice, three times.

And Slade carefully cupped the back of his neck and pulled him close, tucking his face into his neck where no one would be able to see him crying, not even Slade, and…

Well.

Dick still tried…

“I’ve got you, baby.”

… But ultimately, he failed.

And he wrapped his arms around Slade’s broad shoulders and he  _ sobbed. _

And Slade, even when it was over, did not ask what in particular had caused him to burst into inconsolable tears. Just asked if there was anything he could do.

“... A warning before you get busy would be nice,” Dick said from the couch where he now sat, well-aware that his little tantrum had cost Slade upwards of an hour, “That way I’m not just showing up or calling you and getting brushed off when…”

“When…?” Slade prompted, after a long silence, totally patient.

“When I need you.” Dick managed to choke out, and it was hard. He soldiered on to try and make it sound less… Needy… But he wasn’t sure if it worked, “If I already know you’re busy it won’t suck near as bad to not be able to…”

God, yeah, no, that didn’t work. He’d just dug a deeper hole.

“That’s reasonable,” Was what Slade finally said in response.

“Cool.”

“May I ask something in return?”

Oh, great. He had a request. “... Shoot.”

“Tell me when you need me.”

That… Wasn’t what Dick had expected to hear from him. “I…”

“I may be a busy man, but I am not so busy that if you  _ need me _ I will brush you off.” Slade said, firmly but not unkindly, “You do not make it obvious when you’re in distress, so I am simply asking you to let me know that you need me.”

“Okay,” Dick managed, after a moment.

“Good. Now… Am I wrong to assume you still need me?”

Dick bit his lip, looking up at him through still-wet lashes. Slade didn’t look annoyed, or even vaguely frustrated. He looked completely patient, even still a little fond despite the fact that Dick looked like a mess right now and was acting like a horribly spoiled brat by keeping him here just because he was feeling a little lonely and vulnerable.

He didn’t want to say that Slade was right, because it felt  _ selfish. _

But he didn’t want to tell Slade that he was fine, because he  _ wasn’t. _

He just…

He just wanted to be held. To not be the one in charge for a little while.

“You’re not wrong,” He whispered after a moment, which wasn’t at all easy to do with the knot in his throat.

“Alright,” Slade said, easily, “And what do you need me to do?”

And Dick knew that Slade knew how difficult a question that was for him to answer―Slade knew how much he hated being selfish or vulnerable. But Slade also clearly knew that the only way to get him to say these sorts of things out loud was by forcing it a little.

He squeezed his eyes shut and mumbled, “I just― I just wanna be held.” And the admission took more out of him than he wanted to admit to, “... I don’t want to be the one in control.”

And Slade made a noise of understanding, sat down on the couch with him, and pulled him close.

And he didn’t say anything else.


	3. Dom/Sub World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being dominant or submissive was one of those things that most people talked about in mildly hushed voices - everyone was one or the other, more or less, with some people riding a fine line between them, and both were very important when picking a partner.
> 
> Dick was one of the people that tended to walk the line. Slade was not.
> 
> And after meeting Slade, Dick found himself walking more and more on the submissive side than he wanted to admit to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so bear with me on this one, i wrote it in a couple of hours and did zero editing afterward lol  
> there was a plot somewhere? but it went MIA after the first two sentences sooo yeah

Dick Grayson was submissive only when it came to sex, and only with very particular people, and he thought that may contribute a great deal to why Slade liked him so much.

Slade Wilson was dominant in everything he did, no matter the context. He was dominant in bed and he was dominant the rest of the time in much the same way. He commanded a certain amount of respect and admiration just by being in the room.

And Dick, well, he really liked that in a man.

When they first met it was in one of the more shady little setups in the not great part of town―not, of course, because they were looking for hookups of this kind, but rather because people of their stature couldn’t be seen looking for hookups elsewhere. Dick Grayson, oldest son of zillionaire Bruce Wayne, couldn’t be caught schmoozing his way through a nice Gotham bar in hopes of getting his dick wet or his world rocked, and Slade Wilson, best mercenary in the world, wouldn’t be caught dead mingling with Gotham socialites for this sort of thing. So they went to the shady back alleys, and they met each other.

Now, ‘first met’ is misleading―they knew each other already, off the books. They’d met out in the field years beforehand.

But this was the first time both of them were out of costume and both of them were willing to just do their thing instead of wondering why the other was around.

Within ten minutes of running into each other, Dick found himself under Slade’s table giving him head like his life depended on it. And then Slade was dragging him off to the shitty hotel he was staying at and they were snapping at each other as Dick tried to keep some semblance of control over the ordeal, some dominance, but ultimately Slade had pinned him and fucked him senseless.

And Dick, fully aware of who he was and fully aware that Slade knew exactly who he was as well, got such an adrenaline high from it that the first thing he did after waking up in that shitty hotel room was tell himself that he was going to do that again.

And he did.

Had done it again and again and again until they both gave up the pretense of meeting in the back alleys to find each other and started meeting at shitty hotels, or decent ones depending on how Slade was feeling.

Now, again, Dick was submissive only when it came to sex and only with certain people, and he was pretty sure that was why this kept happening. He liked being  _ made _ to be submissive, liked fighting for dominance and losing, and Slade clearly liked being fought and winning. And Dick would talk back at him every time they ran into each other, even on the job, and he challenged him  _ constantly, _ because it was just what he did and because it got his world  _ rocked _ every time they met back up for this.

“Getting awfully bold, aren’t we?” Slade asked him, pinning him against the mattress of a  _ very _ nice hotel room, “What would your  _ siblings _ think?”

Dick laughed, breathless, and twisted himself out of Slade’s grip in a way only he and trained contortionists could ever manage, “Bold is kind of my thing,” He said, whole body  _ singing _ with satisfaction when he was grabbed and tossed back into the middle of the bed and pinned back down with almost all of Slade’s body weight over him, “And I really,  _ really _ don’t care what they’d think, Slade.”

“You say that now,” Said Slade, knowingly.

But then he was leaning down and capturing Dick’s mouth in a searing kiss, and Dick could fight more, but… Man, he kind of just wanted to get taken to pound town. Hopefully having challenged Slade in front of Bruce and all of his lackeys (and Slade’s) would be enough to get Slade to just… Break him.

Because he really,  _ really _ liked it when Slade went whole hog on him, even if it put him out of commission for a couple of days sometimes.

He arched up the best he could, and Slade chuckled.

“I’d almost think you’re finally learning your place if not for that little stunt.” Slade purred, digging his fingers into his hips, “You just don’t know how to be submissive unless you’re forced into it, hm?”

“Oh, I’m submissive by choice sometimes,” He mumbled back, “But it’s always the most fun when its forced out of me. Cuz then I know my dom knows what they’re doing.”

“I do enjoy challenges like that,” Slade admitted, “But I’ll admit what I enjoy most is knowing how easily I manage. I’d wager no one else can get you to melt just… Like… This.” And he dug his fingers into his thigh instead of his hips and Dick moaned and arched up again.

“N-not gonna lie,” Dick managed as, lo and behold, he melted into the mattress as soon as Slade released the pressure of his grip, “You definitely manage easier than most people.”

“Of course,” And the mercenary laughed, kissing him again, and ground down against him, “But then, most people can’t overpower you as easily as I can, can they? Most people can’t just grab you by the throat and lift you completely off the ground.”

“They can’t, and it’s really,  _ really _ hot when somebody can.”

Slade laughed again, and Dick tried not to shudder at the sound.

But it was a useless game, because Slade already knew what his voice could do to him. They’d been doing this long enough that, if he wanted? Slade could just tie him up and  _ talk at him _ and maybe spank him a little and he’d still cum just as hard as if Slade decided to strip him right now and fuck him senseless… Which was another reason he enjoyed doing this, but especially with Slade.

Slade always had the easiest time with… Well.. All of this. A much easier time than any other partners had had, and he seemed to enjoy the game a lot more than some of the others. He got a kick out of winning, and Dick got a kick out of losing, so ultimately it was all pretty perfect.

Next thing he knew, Slade had him face down, ass up and was cooing in his ear about how pretty he looked like this, when he relaxed into it and let Slade control him. And all he could do was happily sink into it, relaxing as Slade opened him up and then slid into him. He sighed out a delighted moan, gripping at the sheets, and Slade uttered praises into his ear.

Slade could be a hardass of a dom, but he knew as well as Dick did that telling him he was doing a good job and being gentle with him here and there would make him fall apart faster than anything.

“There we are,” Slade mumbled, right in his ear, “Didn’t put up much of a fight today… What a good boy you’re turning out to be.”

Dick keened happily, sighing Slade’s name.

“Love you,” Purred Slade.

And did he really? Well, it was hard telling. But hearing it made Dick melt nonetheless.

And then Slade went to work on him.

And Dick, of course, laid there and took it happily, eyes rolling back in his head. And God, yeah, this was what he’d been needing. He’d needed to be taken apart like this again. He could feel all that stress just  _ melting _ off of him while Slade held his hips in a bruising grip.

“Pretty little bird,” Slade hummed, rocking his hips carefully, having slowed to a much slower pace when he felt Dick begin to tense beneath him, “Such a good boy. Are you going to cum?”

“Mhm,” Dick struggled not to whine or hitch his hips back, knowing if he just remained still then Slade would get down to business again in no time, “F-feels so good,”

“Good.”

Dick came with a sob a moment later, shuddering apart on the sheets, in Slade’s grip. And Slade didn’t take much longer, spilling inside of him and petting through his hair as he worked them both down from the high.

Once they’d both sort of caught their breath, Slade helped him lay down. Gave him a rather cursory cleanup with a wet wipe and helped him sit up so he could take a drink of water. Petted his hair and kissed his forehead and just made sure to keep contact with him as much as possible.

“You did great,” Slade told him, softly, “Just rest, I’ll take care of everything else.”

And Dick knew that he would, so he smiled and leaned into him, and wondered if this is what people meant when they talked about finding the right match for them. If a balance like this is what they meant―where, sure, Slade was dominant  _ all the time, _ but Dick could still have some fun being dominated and it was never a matter of  _ control. _ It was always about fun and pleasure. And when it wasn’t about either of those things, their dynamic was friendly and they worked well together.

“Love you,” Dick uttered, after a long moment of just being held and occasionally taking a drink of water, and despite the hydration it made his mouth and throat go dry to say it.

Slade hummed, kissing his forehead softly before he uttered, “I love you too, little Robin.”


End file.
